


Waffles

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 19:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: Being the Sheriff's kid means waking up early in the morning and hoping to see his father before the man falls asleep or goes to work, so Stiles still wakes up at eight o clock in the morning, even on Saturdays.Derek is stretched out on the bed, gorgeous in the early morning light.





	Waffles

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2015 but depression makes you think dumb things like your writing is garbage and no one will wanna read it.
> 
> But I actually really like it, and I know Sunny wants some fluff, so I hope you enjoy the rewrite!
> 
> Also I'm pretty happy with this but barely refrained from rewriting it into a Boyd/Stiles/Derek fic. Not enough of that pairing /sigh
> 
> Enjoy!~

Being the Sheriff's kid means waking up early in the morning and hoping to see his father before the man falls asleep or goes to work, so Stiles still wakes up at eight o clock in the morning, even on Saturdays.

Derek is stretched out on the bed, gorgeous in the early morning light.

Stiles is half tempted to stay and kiss him awake, but next week is Derek's birthday, and Stiles _promised_  himself every day, since they started this thing between them, that Derek would have a damn good pre-birthday week no matter what. (That one time where Stiles got trapped in an inter-dimensional portal? Doesn't count.)

The new Hale house, a few miles deep into the preserve and no where near the old house and bad memories, is quiet with all the pack still asleep or recovering from the full moon yesterday night.

Stiles enters the kitchen, opens two of the windows, and takes a moment to just  _breathe_. Feeling the wards across the house that are connected to the pack as a whole and intrinsically connected to Stiles as the witch who made them, and Derek as the Alpha of the area. Past those mystical senses, Stiles enjoys the scent of California Red Oaks, the Pines nearby, and the fresh smell of dew on grass. He doesn't quite pick a time to stop, just goes from breathing in and looking out into the still semi-dark forest, and then heads for the ingredients and utensils.

Starting a meal has always given Stiles a bit of excitement, a little thrill. Stiles' can't help the little smile on his face, or the way his body starts dancing while he cracks eggs into a bowl. Pours milk, half melted butter, flour, sugar, and a tiny amount of salt (because the big baby werewolves say the normal amount is _too much_ ). Adds a little vanilla in a separate bowl because Erica _loves_  Vanilla-pancakes, the weirdo. 

Stiles turns on the waffle iron to warm up and starts mixing the batter, barely remembering to put in baking powder before putting a fourth of the mix into Erica's bowl. He brushes a light coat of butter across the waffle iron and then carefully pours a decent amount. He has years of experience with the waffle iron but he _swears_  this new one hates him.

Footsteps upstairs mean that at least Isaac or Boyd are up by now (Both of them early risers for differing reasons). It's not long after before Isaac is quietly walking in and sitting down beside Stiles.

Stiles offers him a smile and gets one in return. This is good, the pack finally being stable, their- _Derek's_  pups being safe and sound of mind and body.

Boyd comes down a few minutes later, eyes half closed and a slump this shoulders-he's always woken up tired, and Stiles has yet to learn why. But Boyd is a pretty private person.

And Derek threatened to not let Stiles have sex for a month if he pries too hard.

Stiles makes a batch of waffles for the lot of the pups and another batch for Erica, makes sure there's a decent amount of both, before setting the bowls and utensils in the sink, and filling them with water. After quickly turning everything off, Stiles sets up a tray filled with a large plate of waffles, two glasses of milk, and a vase with a pink tulip made from deer bone and a bit of magic (the first gift of the week for Derek). With a nervous shake to his step, Stiles heads towards the stairs.

Isaac grins at Stiles  and raises his brows.

Stiles sticks out his tongue and is glad that Boyd is focused on his damn pancakes. Like an _adult_.

"Wait until we're out of the house to have sex, yeah, Stilinski?" Boyd says right as Stiles reaches the stairs leading up, barely audible through the kitchen door.

Stiles huffs and amends his thought of Boyd being an adult. He regrets moving in because no one takes his threats seriously anymore.

And then he opens his bedroom door, and Derek sniffs, nose scrunching cutely, body tensing before relaxing again. His eyes barely squint open and he smiles sleepily at Stiles, "Hey." Voice deep and gravely.

"Hey." Stiles changes his mind, he will _never_  regret _this_. This happy and healthy Derek. This mate who is always his and Stiles' is always Derek's.

Stiles sets down the tray on the nightstand and leans over to kiss Derek's sleep-warm lips.

Derek's eyes catch the tulip and his eyes crinkle in only a way where he's trying not to cry from happiness. (Stiles is ashamed of how happy that somewhat frequent look makes him feel) His large hand slides under Stiles' shirt and presses firmly against his back.

"I love you, Derek Stilinski-Hale."

Derek's eyes grow wet, but Stiles never says anything in these moments, no teasing comments, no snark, and he smiles against Stiles' lips, "I love you too, Stiles Stilinski-Hale."

 


End file.
